Abdel Kareem Shamali, shown with his children and nieces, tries to reassure the kids by acting like the bombs don't bother him.

Ahmed Abu Hamda for NPR

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Originally published on July 9, 2014 9:39 pm

More than 50 Palestinians have been killed and 450 wounded in Israeli airstrikes on the Gaza Strip. Meanwhile, rockets continue to fly toward Israel from Gaza, but so far, no Israelis have been reported killed.

For people living in and around the Gaza Strip, this conflict has turned daily routines upside down. Life is punctuated by sirens and explosions.

NPR correspondent Ari Shapiro and producer Ahmed Abu Hamda recorded the stories of two families taking shelter from the escalating conflict.

Ashkelon, Israel

The sound of a siren means rockets are coming, and it's time to take cover — in an interior room of the house, maybe, or just lying on the ground with your hands covering your head.

For the Abulbul family, shelter is an underground concrete bunker. They share this single room with all the neighborhood families, 30 or 40 people in total.

There's no plumbing or air conditioning, and the shelter is sweltering.

Ofra Abulbul says her children refuse to go outside.

"My kids are very anxious," she says. "They won't go home to sleep, or shower, or eat. The toilet doesn't work here, so every time we have to go home to use the bathroom they're terrified."

Her 10-year-old son is named Nehorai. "Things are not OK," he says. "I'm scared."

A little dog named Bony is running around his feet.

"He also has anxieties," the boy says.

The children have nothing to do here. They lie on the concrete floor and stare at the ceiling, or when they feel hyper, they jump on a mattress until they're exhausted.

When he's scared, does he ever think that kids in Gaza might also feel scared? Nehorai says yes.

"My mother told me there were sirens there, too," he says. "And those kids also have to run away."

Gaza City, Gaza Strip

In Gaza City, there are no shelters. When rockets fall, the Shamali family takes cover in their house — which is home to 22 people, 16 of them children.

This is the holy month of Ramadan, a time for visiting family and enjoying evening feasts. But Gaza City is a ghost town. Shops are empty, and people are afraid to go outside.

It's quiet except for the boom of rockets, and a thin layer of black smoke hangs in the air.

"We feel so scared," says 10-year-old Karmen. "It's Ramadan now, and we want to enjoy the holiday. But they spoiled it. They terrify us."

She's angry that Israelis can hide in shelters, while her family has nowhere to go, and people are killed.

Asked if she wants Israeli kids to die too, Karmen says no.

"They are like me. They have rights. They shouldn't die," she says. "They should be protected, just like we should be protected."

Copyright 2014 NPR. To see more, visit http://www.npr.org/.

Transcript

ROBERT SIEGEL, HOST:

From NPR News this is ALL THINGS CONSIDERED. I'm Robert Siegel.

MELISSA BLOCK, HOST:

And I'm Melissa Block. President Obama today urged Israelis and Palestinians to de-escalate their growing conflict, but the air war goes on. More than 50 Palestinians have been killed and 450 wounded in Israeli airstrikes on the Gaza Strip. Meanwhile, rockets continue to fly toward Israel from Gaza. They're using longer-range rockets than they have in the past, but so far no Israelis have been reported killed. Just ahead, we'll hear more about the types of weapons and technology being used by both sides. We begin, though, by what this means for people living in and near the Gaza Strip. NPR's Ari Shapiro has the story of two families taking shelter on opposite sides of the border.

ARI SHAPIRO, BYLINE: In the Israeli city of Ashkelon, this sound means rockets are coming. It's time to take cover. That might be an interior room of the house, or just lying on the ground with your hands covering your head. For the Abulbul family, shelter is a concrete bunker underground. They share the single room with all the neighborhood families - 30 or 40 people in total. There's no plumbing or air-conditioning. It's sweltering here. Ofra Abulbul says her children refuse to go outside.

(Hebrew spoken.)

SHAPIRO: My kids are very anxious, she says. They won't go home to sleep or shower or eat. The toilet doesn't work here, so every time we have to go home to use the bathroom. They're terrified. Her 10-year-old son is named Nehorai.

(Hebrew spoken.)

SHAPIRO: Things are not OK, he says. I'm scared. A little dog named Bony is running around his feet.

SHAPIRO: Is this your dog?

(Hebrew spoken.)

SHAPIRO: He also has anxieties, the boy says. The children have nothing to do here. They lie on the concrete floor and stare at the ceiling. Or when they feel hyper they jump on a mattress until they're exhausted. I asked 10-year-old Nehorai whether he ever thinks about the children in Gaza. When you're here feeling scared, I ask, do you ever think that kids over there might also feel scared?

(Hebrew spoken.)

SHAPIRO: Yes, he says. My mother told me there were sirens there, too. And those kids also have to run away. In Gaza City, there are no shelters. The Shamali family takes cover in their house. NPR's producer Ahmed Abu Hamda visited them while I was with the Israeli family in Ashkelon. Twenty-two people live in this house, 16 of them are children. Abdel Karem Shamali says his oldest son, who's 12, asked a difficult question the other day.

(Arabic spoken.)

SHAPIRO: The boy asked his mother how it feels to be killed by a rocket - is it painful or painless? I never wanted him to ask such a question in all his life, the father says. His children don't sleep. They throw up for no reason. A house about 70 yards away was destroyed in an Israeli airstrike this morning. The kids started screaming.

(Arabic spoken.)

SHAPIRO: Sometimes I lie, says the father. I tell my kids those aren't bombs, those are fireworks. When it's huge I try to act care-free so they'll see me and feel reassured. This is the holy month of Ramadan. It's a time for visiting family and evening feasts. But Gaza City is a ghost town. Shops are empty. People are afraid to go outside. It's quiet except for the boom of rockets. A thin layer of black smoke hangs in the air.

(Arabic spoken.)

SHAPIRO: We feel so scared, says 10-year-old Karmen. It's Ramadan now, and we want to enjoy the holiday, but they spoiled it. They terrify us. She's angry that Israelis can hide in shelters while her family has nowhere to go. People get killed. And then, Ahmed asks the 10-year-old, do you want their kids to die, too?

(Arabic spoken.)

SHAPIRO: No, she says. They are like me. They have rights. They shouldn't die. They should be protected just like we should be protected. Ari Shapiro, NPR News, Jerusalem. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.